


Avenge me

by SmittyWerbenjagermanjensen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Tragedy, Assassination, Assassination Plot(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Dead Sam Winchester, Death, Destiel - Freeform, Guilty Dean Winchester, Human AU, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Modern Assassins, Organized Crime, Spies & Secret Agents, assasin Au, hitman and, i didn't add it as a major character death though, sam dies in the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 17:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyWerbenjagermanjensen/pseuds/SmittyWerbenjagermanjensen
Summary: Sam Winchester got out, he left the family business. Something dean could never do, but it got him and the girl he loved killed. Now john has an offer, he will make sure Dean can live any life that he chooses without his past coming back to bite him, like Sam had. Dean must kill the son of the man that had killed Sam, avenge Sam, John had said. What happens when his target is also a son of an assassin and wants out of the life so bad he doesn't even try to stop himself from being killed.





	1. Prologue

It's around 6:00 pm and there's a lovely small apartment in a small California town, inside that apartment are two people, these two people are in their kitchen cooking food for their dinner that night, making love.

Maybe not on the normal sense but with every word and every action Sam falls in love with Jess a little more right there, the way she laughs at his small witty comebacks, the way she makes him sample all the food before deciding if it's done or not, the way her hips sway as she hums to the song playing on the radio. Sam is just loving every second and falling harder. There is one thing that breaks his heart to a million pieces every time he hears her say it, but he's learned to focus on what she says after the name.

"Alex Smith, can I have this dance?" Jess asks holding her hand out towards Sam. She'll never know the truth of his name, Sam is ok with that, she doesn't know him as Sam and Sam is happy about that. She knows him as Alex and Alex is who he is now. He just wishes he could hear her call him Sam once, just once. Then the burning he feels every time she says his fake one would go away.

"Why, dear Jessica Moore I would be absolutely honored." Sam reached forward putting his hand on Jess' then pulling her towards him, putting his other hand on her waist and swaying along with the song, dipping, and kissing.

Suddenly a gun goes off and Jessica goes limp in Sam's arms, Sam looks towards where the shot came from a man in a dark suit and pale skin is standing in the doorway with a gun pointed towards him.

"Well hello Alex Smith, that is your name isn't it?"

"Who are you?!" Sam yells holding Jessica close to him, looking down she is shallowly breathing, but trying to make out a word, Sam?, she whispers with such a lack of life in her voice it's barely audible, then slowly her head tilts backwards and her eyes shut, until her entire being is a limp lull against Sam's arms.

"No no no no," tears falling out of his eyes he looks back to the man, the intruder has a smile on his face and his head is slightly tilted observing the scene that has played out before him.

"Didn't think all your murders would come back to get you one day? Did you, Sam." Sam sets the cooling body down his head bowed in sorrow and grief, 'Of course they would come back, how could I think they wouldn't? They would take the only other person in this world that meant something. How could I be so selfish to let this happen to her? It's all my fault.' Sam thinks.

Looking up he addresses the man with grief and depression setting in,  
"Why? Who are you?" He yells again, head and chest rising.

"why?" He mumbles brokenly.

"Why?" The man laughs.

"Why?" He repeats mimicking Sam.

"Aww did I kill your poor girlfriend?" He pouts exaggeratedly.

"Sam just let me ask you a question, how many people have you murdered?" He walks a step closer to sam the gun and Sam's head only inches away. If he wasn't so immediately depressed, shocked, grieving and slightly suicidal, he might have done something to try to fight this man, but with the love of his life dead, bleeding out on the floor, he really can't bring himself to care, whether this man will finish the job or not, and if there's a small side of him that hopes he will, then that's that.

"You know Sam, sometimes bad things happen to good people." Looking up Sam stares down the barrel of his gun waiting to be the Romeo to his Juliette.

"And sometimes bad things happen to bad people. The point is bad things happen and when they do," He smiles and it makes Sam want to throw up.  
"Someone wants revenge. So that's," plastering the fake pout on his pale big nosed, dark-eyed, face.

"Why." Sam looks back down to Jessica wondering why he had to be so selfish as to take her life away from her, she had a whole future ahead, but no, Sammy had to go and fall in love.

"You killed my wife Sam, and she may not have been the best person, she may have embezzled millions from charities, had people smuggling and selling drugs, sold organs on the black market from people she had kidnapped, but dammit, I loved her," the man looks down at his forearm then, lost in the memory of his dead wife. Then looking back at same with fury and spite clear in his eyes,  
"You killed her, took her away from me!" Looking the man in the eye Sam saw a broken shell of a human.

"And I would do it again, she was evil, only I would also have killed you too." Sam spits out.

"That's a lot of venom for someone who won't live to see the next minute." With that, a trigger was pulled, and this time, Sam wasn't the one holding the gun.

The lights went out in Georiga.

Sam looked down at his chest where blood was soaking through his shirt. He looked over to his beloved and grabbed her hand, while an ice hot burned through him he lied down next to her holding her, not sparing a glance to the gunman, he closed his eyes and breathed until death overtook him.

The intruder scoffed, mumbling 'pathetic' setting a note on the kitchen counter, a little note written on a generic yellow sticky notepaper, then leaving the way he came in resetting the alarm.

'The body of 21 year old Jessica Moore and 22 year old Alex Smith were found in their kitchen today, both shot in the chest, they were reportedly on the floor laying together, a note was found at the scene of the crime reading,  
'Carolina was avenged'. Police cannot release any more information at this time, if you have any new information about this crime please contact the police.'  
John turned the tv off, not being able to listen to the constant reminder of his son's death. While Dean sat in front of him, hands on his face barely able to keep his head on straight.

"You need to avenge Sam." Were the first word out of Johns' mouth when he heard Sam had died, he had repeated them more times than Dean could count, Dean looked up to John trying to find some other meaning behind those words but he found exactly what was said. Looking back down he jabbed the fork at the apple pie in front of him.

"We don't even know who did it!" Dean exasperatedly urged his father to stop telling him those 5 words.

"But I have men finding out right now Dean, just tell me you will."  
"Why can't you? He's your son." Those words stung a little coming out, God knew Dean raised sam even more than John ever did.

" Dean, I'm mixed up with everyone, it would be as though I was being hunted if I stalked someone until I avenged his murder."

" I don't know." Dean had seen what trying to avenge someone turned into, it turned someone into his father! His whole childhood was based on avenging his mothers death, could you blame dean if that traumatized him from avenging anyone.

" Dean if you... Dean, if you avenge him, I'll find a way to get you out." Dean perked up at that, get out. He'd always wanted to get out, but once you were in the business you stayed in it until it killed you, Sam just proved it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello, I would like say thanks for reading this story, I don't have very much motivation on my own so if you liked it or even think it will could be okay, leave me comments they encourage me to write more often and better every comment will count trust me, I am like a dog though if you have criticizem you have to wrap it in complements like you would stuff a pill into dog treats.


	2. Amarican Psycho

"His names Zachariah Novak," John gave the folder holding all of Zachariah's information in it to Dean.  
"His car was caught on security cameras leaving the vicinity after the suspected time of the murder, we looked back into Sam's file and Carolina was the name of Sam's 15th case, she and her husband were drug smuggling, money laundering, and she sold organs in the black market, he was also included in multiple murders, but there was never enough evidence to lock him up for any of them." Dean read over the file while listening to his father talk, sickened that this man was the one that took his brother's life.

"So I need to kill him." Dean states.  
"No." John answer corrects, leaving Dean dumbfounded.  
" what do you mean, I'm going to kill him, avenge Sammy, then get out. Just like you said." Anger rising in his tone.  
"You're not going to kill him, yet. First, you're going to take away what means most to him just like he did to you, your going to hurt the one person he was supposed to protect just like he did to you." John says looking Dean in the eye, while Dean finds it hard to keep eye contact.  
" You're going to kill his son, then kill him, after he's had a chance to find him dead and arrange his funeral, having to bury his child, like he's done to me." Johns' voice cracks at the last word and he finally lets the eye contact go freeing Dean from the intense gaze.

"Who is he?" Dean questions hoping that he's guilty of something death penalty worthy.  
" Castiel Novak, he's had extensive training in all modern deadly martial arts, he's been trained in all advanced weapons, i.e. Guns, knives, bombs, nunchucks, throwing stars, crossbow.  
Moved around the world for education in religion, culture, psychology, and anthropology."  
" what are his crimes?" Dean asked.

"He doesn't have any." Dean looked up in disbelief.  
"He hasn't done anything? Like not even a speeding ticket? How could you want me to kill him?" John closed his eyes in frustration.  
" sometimes bad thing happens to good people Dean, you especially should know that, like what happened to your mother."  
He always had to go there, claiming everything he had done was because he had to avenge Mary. Missing your kid's graduation to avenge Mary.  
"Sammy deserves to be avenged, Dean." Looking back up John reached over the desk and grabbed the Carmel colored liquid in the clear bottle. And poured it into two glasses.

"I do it and I'm out." Dean more questioned than stated taking hold of the glass and raising it to his mouth. The liquor burned, it burned like his stomach thinking about killing an innocent.  
"Yes."  
"Okay fine, set up the case."  
Dean downed the rest of the liquor while his father prepared for the case.

Dean startled awake with fresh sweat setting on him. With a grunt he looked up at the clock, it read '4:52' it was earlier than he had hoped but it wasn't too early to where he had to go back to sleep. He got up with a grunt trying to think about other things besides his dream, because him having to kill an innocent soon he didn't want to be having flashbacks to his old trainer Alister.

He had tried to teach unethical things to Dean about how he should feel about his job. Alister didn't feel emotions like Dean did or anybody else for that matter, he thought as long as your doing your job and were smarter than the people around you, you were a great person.

Alister thought Dean had a gift and that they should work together, Dean had been young and was frustrated with his John because he kept giving him easier and easier jobs. Dean thought it was a good deal, do the easy jobs his father gave him, and do jobs with Alister if they were harder Alister had been really good at it with lots of experience so he would do most of the work while Dean did his best and got experience of his own.

The deal was going great until Alister had gotten them a job Dean had refused to work. There was a reason Alister was so good, he didn't feel any empathy, grief, love.  
He was an actual psychopath. He had even been diagnosed as a psychopath then proceeded to kill the doctor, of course, Dean didn't find out about that until after things with Alister had gone sour.

One day Alister told him about the case they were working on and discreetly didn't mention why they were killing the man. When Dean had asked what he had done out of curiosity, Alister had lashed out. He started yelling at Dean ' 'you don't trust me?' 'I shouldn't have even bothered thinking I could take you on this case.' Then left, Dean had been a little hurt and a lot angered by this, he may have been an asshole but he was still one of Deans mentors. Dean didn't go on that case but the next time Alister had a case and didn't tell Dean what the person did to deserve to be assassinated, Dean didn't ask. It didn't happen too frequently the first few times, but then he started doing it more frequently.

Dean started getting suspicious as to why he wouldn't tell him, he got ahold of the files of the people Alister had killed from his friend ash, most of them had been bad guys, like really bad guys but then there were some that had been innocent with the worst thing they had done was a petty crime, 5th degree theft, DWI, drug possession of marijuana, nothing worth dying over. Dean confronted him about it, Dean almost lost his life and Alister did lose his. While they were battling to the death Alister had time to let Dean in on a couple secrets.

'Oh come on Dean, you were such a good sidekick, why did you have to go snooping? You asked questions you didn't want the answers to and look where it got you. They did pay me well, and it's a shame you have that Jiminy Cricket on your shoulder you could have made some money too. You know I've been diagnosed a literal psychopath by a doctor before, but you seem to be worse than me, you are always worried about other people, always feeling so guilty about things. You should see if any doctors could help you with that maybe get you hooked on some anti-depressants because god knows you need them. I could give you the number to my doctor, wait no I can't, I killed him.'

They were fighting and with every word Dean got angrier and angrier until he just, killed him. Dean was so angry with himself for getting played like that, he was being taught by a psychopath, and had killed multiple innocent people. He had sworn he would never be that gullible again. Once he had told his dad what he had done and who-what Alister really was his father had said he was disappointed but everyone had made mistakes and he better learn from this one because if not, he was no better than the scum they killed. He never wanted to kill an innocent again but knew that a time would come when he may have to. That time had presented its self, that time was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will get better, longer chapters and better writing.


	3. Every villain is a hero in their own mind

Cold showers didn't help as much as people thought they did, they left you feeling unsatisfied and craving warmth. It was a strange sensation to take one though, they acted as opposite to a warm shower, they woke you up and felt clean, your thought process didn't work the same way either there was only one thing you could think about the entire time, cold, freezing, icy, and any other synonyms to Antarctica's weather. Dean would take a cold shower after a nightmare to feel awake, was to not feel like the dream was real, the dream was only real if you were asleep. Ice droplets raced down his back like Michel Phelps competing in the Olympic’s.

  
The day had come like he knew it would, hopefully the last day of this horrid job, a horrid ending to a short life without a happily ever after. Castiel was innocent, his files had portrayed him to be a very smart student and dean couldn't deny that being raised in the environment he had, must have shaped him into a man that would not be as easy as the average criminal. It was a plan that would most likely have to be done right the first time or Castiel would know he was a target and go incognito for who knows how long. The plan had been simple follow him around for a couple days put camera bugs in his house and hack into the already placed cameras, the dare say Murder would be quite the same as Sam’s almost like an elaborate Fuck You to Zachariah, from dean personally, John wouldn't care what happened as long as it did happen. Dean would get him while he was vulnerable, asleep would be preferable, then snipe him in his sleep. No struggle or pain, just revenge and cold hard freedom.

  
The thing about killing people is it's not hard to do to people you feel deserve it. Though deciding who deserves it is a little harder to decide because everyone has different morals, one might say just murdering someone in general constitutes for them to be killed, others held the standard a little higher, to say serial killing. Don't forget about the psychopaths, it easy to meet a hot-tempered person then say to your friend that their such a psychopath, but they weren't really a psychopath they just acted crazy and frantic compared to the average person. Quite contrary to popular belief they are almost always more intelligent than an average person and will hide not being able to feel emotions like other people, often faking so people don't get suspicious or worried, growing up can be tricky but most know that their not normal and want to manipulate others around them to get ahead themselves. It's like in the movie American Psycho he has a bloodlust and he is in his job position because he had no problem killing a few people who got in the way of what he wanted, some people think that having no guilt after killing someone would be good quality for an assassin but its not, having your only morals be self preservation is dangerous for all people involved, they don't care who dies or how as long as they get paid and out of the laws eyes, doesn't matter innocent, guilty, man, woman or child.

  
For Dean killing was justified and a reasonable solution to some problems. People who had done terrible, terrible things, unforgivable sometimes unspeakable things, things that would only stop once you took out their root cause. An assassin that killed people for money, or petty things was no better than the scum that deserved to die, sometimes as dean had experienced, assassins were terrible people that killed other terrible people and sometimes got killed by equally as terrible people. Of course for him the guilt was almost unbearable at the beginning he could see what awful people they were and thought, of course they deserved to die, quick death was almost a light punishment from what they rightfully deserved, more pain and suffering than they had inflicted on people guilty of no crime left victimized and empty. The longer he had done it and the more experienced he got, the more he realized a truth so scary that it could make even the heroic of people rethink their lives, simple yet potentially war starting.

**_Every villain is a hero in their own mind._ **

Dean had found that every terrorist thought they were doing right, doing what their god wanted from them. People would turn into nightmares and think of themselves as knights in shining armor, they were almost brainwashed in the most unusual way, they brainwashed themselves. Say the president bombs another country or sends army men over in war, the president would think of himself as a good man for protecting his country, his people. The people he is responsible for, say a mans wife is murdered her husband would find him to fight for her honor, teach his children how to do the right thing, rid the world of others with much worse agendas, but is he any better than the worst of villains, killing and teaching his children to kill because he thinks it's the right thing to do? Dean had pondered many nights asking himself if he was a villain to any heroes, but then he would ask himself what it meant to be a hero. He could whole heartedly say he was no hero, never would he use the adjective heroic to describe his occupation, heroes felt good and clean and fresh and bright after doing something great and world changing for people, he murdered them for Christ sakes, since young age he had known it was right but hard, hard for all the people involved. he could tell he wasn't the only one that felt a soul numbing tingle after each job. The bottles of liquor after every job his father did in his youth told him it wasn't just him, it wasn't that he just couldn't handle this job, because he could he was great at it physically and mostly mentally.  
It was that he thought maybe no human was meant to take the life of another, the feeling of watching the life drain out, even a person with the smallest amount of humility is humbled by the quick end of another's mortality reminding themselves of there fragile own.

  
After watching and monitoring Castiel these last few days Dean could say he clearly didn't deserve such a fate, dean had watched him walk grocery bags out to an old lady's car, he saw a young woman walking in front of him on the street be catcalled, Castiel almost instantly responded by putting his hand on his chest and saying, “Stop it” in the most exaggerated voice the men were repulsed but the woman looked thankful. It was like he was an angel, the opposite of his parents, dean had went through his home and found nothing worse than some anxiety medication that wasn't prescribed to him and a couple joints in his sock drawer. Dean felt sorrow and sympathy for him, he really did, but Deans father would give him something he had all his life and if that made him a villain in anyone else's eyes, than so be it. He may not have been a hero in his own, but he didn't want to stay the self hating villain either. Could you imagine? A villain being a villain in their own mind?


	4. We Should Get Started On Plotting Your Murder, Yeah?

The day was cold and long, night was upon him. It was almost time. He packed his bags so when he got back he could leave, leave not only this town, but every memory it carried with it.

The car drive was smooth, smoother than he thought possible. He was worried that this wasn’t real, that in less than 24 hours he wouldn’t be in California at the beach as the sunset. _Stupid fantasy, yes. But a fantasy no less._ It was almost like he could feel the path of his life changing course. He was making the change. And if by chance he didn't succeed tonight, he would be driving there anyway. The decision no matter how long and hard had been made. If he failed he would leave his father, family was everything but with Sam no longer alive his family had felt disjointed, broken beyond repair.

With the tune of Hotel California playing laxly throughout the car he watched the cameras inside Castiel’s house, he was sitting by his fire reading a book, had he known he was going to die tonight would he choose to spend the evening reading? That made him think of Sam, Sam had special way of describing reading, the description that struck him most prominently was when Sam had been reading Harry Potter.

_Harry kinda reminds me of myself Dean, like he didn't have a very great childhood, but it turns out that he is destined for a more than the average life, he’s a wizard, he’s the boy that lived, almost like me. It’s like it makes me see things from someone kinda like me’s point of view, you wouldn’t understand._

The thing is dean didn’t understand, but wished he could. To be able to relate to someone like Sam had been able to do to harry potter, it sounded fun, more fun than just looking up to people that were nothing like you hoping you could become just like them. Sam had described Harry Potter as a great person. Harry Potter, had been a hero, saved the world, defeated the dark lord. It warmed his heart to think maybe Sam saw himself as Harry, someone who was different and did witchcraft which a lot of ordinary people considered bad, but defeated the darkness. He hoped Sam had considered himself as defeating darkness, saving the world, and even though a lot of people may consider it wrong, was doing good.

Maybe if Castiel did know he was going to die tonight he would still choose to read, to be transported away from the present time, to indulge in another person’s world. Dean would like to think if he could do anything before he died it would be to tell every secret he had, to go to the grave light and free, maybe it could lift enough weight off his shoulders that he could somehow float high enough to reach heaven.

The first person though, that first person would be his father. Every lie and secret that he had ever said to be told, even without context would do. There weren’t many but the ones there were, were the weight of fifty people that consume fast food daily, his lies would be revealed as dirty as the behind the scenes making of McDonald’s food. From the first ones he ever told, to the ones told just months ago, every last one of them, being served faster than Jimmy Johns. Next would be Sam even just through prayer, he would tell him everything he tried to cover up, that Sam had been so smart enough to figure out, all the denying then just flat ignoring, he would tell him the truth for every time he had asked for it when he was still alive. Bobby, he never lied to Bobby, and the secrets he kept were few, Bobby listened, since he had been a fifteen year old boy just looking for some listening without keeping an appearance of submission or leadership, but as an equal. Bobby's would be the first place he went to the beach, to cut ties with, from him he would get more than a glass of scotch, a pat on the back and being told, _if everything works out like it should, this is the last we’ll be seeing each other, I know that the chances are slim to none, but I’ll always have a place for you here if you ever change your mind, son._  

_Dean would never change his mind he was sure of that. He would rather die._

Pulling up the street he got out of the rented dust bucket and took the way to the house that he had designated earlier, bringing the portable camera screens and a gun, walked through the trees all the motion sensors disabled and a clear view of Castiel in bed.

He approached the house from the kitchen door, it was locked like he had already known, every night Castiel would go about every door and lock it. Took him about half an hour. Dean checked his monitor to make sure, Castiel was still in the bed, he was less than an hour away from freedom it felt like. The locks were hard to get through, a mix of mechanical and electrical went into each of them. He was steadily getting through the electrical layout when he heard the familiar crunch of leaves behind him approaching, someone was outside with him. He raised his gun, and flipped through the channels on the monitor. Castiel was still inside his room, and it showed nobody on any of the cameras, none of the channels were missing or cut out, dean couldn't understand it, but sometimes you don't need to understand something to accept it for what it is, and right now he accepted that someone was outside with him. The crunching stopped, it was coming from his right side, around the corner.

Tension filled the air, Dean couldn’t go inside that house with a person outside doing who knows what, were they here to kill him or Castiel, it couldn’t be a coincidence that at the exact time he was going to kill Castiel someone would show up, Dean didn't believe in coincidences and he wasn’t going to start now. He wondered it if it would be smarter to make the first move, did they expect him to?

He heard moving again it was an odd pattern almost not like human feet walking in autumn leaves. It got closer until it was almost around the corner, Dean hadn’t moved or made a sound since he had first heard it. The culprit that had made the rustling had shown its self it was not what he had expected at all, but it made sense. The pattern wasn’t human at all it wasn’t caused by two feet but four. A small white fluffy dog stood before him, smelling the ground. It must not have noticed him yet. But the first thing Dean had noticed was the leash going upwards, that had meant that someone was behind the dog, walking the dog. A dog walker in the middle of the night? Why couldn't he see them on the monitor? The dog had turned its head and spotted dean, the seconds seemed to move in slow motion, the dog's face had screwed up and mouth opened, judging from the size of the small dog it would be a yipe rather than a bark, a very annoying, very loud, yipe.

The dog had yipped exactly three times, each one rang in Dean’s ears like a failure bell, probably louder than it had been in reality. The failure seemed much worse, when he heard a voice at the end of the third bark.

“Cugo, silence.” The dog immediately turned its head toward the voice behind it, obeying obediently. The voice had been rough and dry and deep. There was about ten seconds of silence before they spoke again. Dean should have made the first move, he could handle shooting the dog, he could knock the owner over the head with the butt of his gun, then complete what he came here for. He could, he should, but he didn’t.

“You honestly think you could just get into my house without me noticing? I thought you knew who I was.” It was addressing him this time, it was… Castiel? That didn’t make any sense, he flipped through the monitor. Castiel was still asleep. The cameras were hack proof. The face behind the voice came out from behind the corner. Black hair, blue eyes, white suit, it was Castiel. He looked back down at the screen, and this time Castiel sighed dramatically.

"Are you really that daft, or are you just extremely prideful, Dean." He knew his name, Dean looked him in the eye. Questioning was this man going to get in the way of his freedom? Was he going to try to end Dean's life? He showed no move of defense or any weapon in hand. What did he want?

“I was wondering when you were going to show up, never got tired of waiting though," Castiel said completely calm like he was waiting for the mail, not to be murdered.

"what do you mean waiting?" "Well I've had your cameras in my house all weekend,” That dean sought out the screen again knowing what he was seeing was what he was being purposefully shown.

"Take a closer look." Castiel pulled a remote out of his pocket and pressed a few buttons, Dean changed the channels each one had a video feed of Castiel, him sleeping, cooking, reading in front of the fireplace. Dean had underestimated Castiel that much was clear, the only question was by how much. If Castiel knew that he was watching him, and Dean didn’t know, what else was Castiel doing that Dean didn't know about, maybe he wasn't the angel Dean had originally thought.

“So, I suppose you’re here because of your brother.” He knew about Sam. Jesus, in that moment every previous conception dean had about Castiel was erased. That helping old ladies attitude was probably fake, to gain pity from dean. The breeze picked up making the steady tension in the air increase, he felt a stream of adrenaline go through his body, the goose bumps prickling under his shirt, the moonlight making Castiel’s white suit, stick out like a whore in church.

"Yeah, how do you know about him?" Dean didn't put his guard down but he was on his tip toes with, what you could call a conversation.

"My dad never did think about the consequences of his actions. After my mom died he was distraught, he kept looking and looking for the man who did it. I know all about Sam, and you, your mother but your father, he’s the one my dad really wanted, he had a saying, _don’t blame the crew, blame the captain, if he can’t take it, he’s no leader._ he was so angry that your dad was basically invisible. So he settled for seconds, turned it upside down, thought maybe taking his son's life would make John track him down himself and he could get the revenge he wanted, or at least die trying.” Dean listened to the story with a solid stone face and an empty heart, Sam was being tracked, he and he was sitting away doing his own thing, exactly what everyone feared would happen happened. Would it happen to him too? Dying young and free had to be better than dying old and hating every day.

“So you know what I’m here to do?" Dean asked bluntly, Castiel already knew about him, his job, the odds had to be that he knew what was going down, it was almost impossible for him not to know.

"Yes, I do." They maintained eye contact, dean supposed for the same reason. The talk was over, a mutual understanding was in their eyes, within the next couple seconds something would happen, either from Deans end or Castiel’s, maybe even both. Cugo stayed silent throughout the entire interaction, he barked once things got quiet, a small bark no bite, bark. Dean couldn’t blame the dog it was intense and both of their futures were going to be decided in mere seconds.

“I think your right, Cugo, it’s time.” He let go of the leash and it fell onto the ground next to the dog. “go inside Cugo.” The dog got up and went back around the corner, as soon and Castiel had ‘It’s time' Dean had raised his gun, prepared to shoot, Castiel didn’t flinch or make a move to leave. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and raised his head so his chin was up and his eyes were closed. Was he just letting it happen? Really, he was going to voluntarily die, without any defense whatsoever.

"What are you doing?" dean asked curiously, he was still going to kill Castiel, he was obviously going to make this easy, easier than Dean had expected but why?

“You’re here to kill me, right? Get revenge, I understand, just do it fast. I’ve been ready for this since I was seventeen, no surprises here.” Seventeen? What kind of life would he have had to be okay with accepting death because of something else, that was bullshit, but not his bullshit. Maybe that angel pseudo wasn’t completely fake, he wouldn’t go as far to say it was real, but maybe not everything was about him was fake. It suddenly felt a lot more wrong to kill him than it did before.

Castiel had his head tilted up and his eyes closed. He was practically throwing himself in front of a gun, as messed up as Dean thought he was, he would never willingly stand in front of a gun, especially not to take the heat for someone else's wrongdoing. Although like all rules that had an exception, but as of this day forward that exception was dead. Dean didn't think that Castiel's dad had been the exception, which only made him pity Castiel more. Something was telling him to not do this, this was wrong more so than he thought before. It didn’t make any sense but the Pronounced Jiminy Cricket he had on his shoulder told him it didn’t need to, he should just accept it.

“So that’s why you wore the white suit?” He said as he lowered his gun, “it’s like some kinda death suit?”

Castiel slowly lowered his chin and slowly opened his eyes, uncertain of what was happening. “what are you doing?” that was a good question what was he doing? This was what he wanted, he wanted Castiel dead so he could be free. But it almost burned inside him, the ringing of Johns words, ‘learn from this or your no better than the scum we kill’ everything about this had seemed wrong. He wasn’t killing Castiel because he had done something wrong, he was killing Castiel because it’s who John wanted him to kill. And Castiel was so ready to take it. Killing Castiel wasn’t avenging Sam, killing Zachariah, was avenging Sam. He was at a moral crossroads if he killed Castiel he would be out of a job and a past, if he didn’t he was out a father and a future.

“I don’t know, really. It’s not you I should be killing, it's your father.” Dean said once again maintaining eye contact.

“Your right, but he's long gone," Castiel replied, seeming to be at unease about this whole interaction.

“I can’t kill you.” All at once visions of warm sand between his toes and an overly fruity drink that would look odd but taste delicious, seemed millions of miles away. The reality of what he had just done was catching up in his brain, he wished we wouldn’t have thought about it more, he wished he would have just done, done it like every other goddamn time. Jiminy a son of a bitch that he wished he could just shut off at this moment, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t think of killing Castiel like he had just minutes ago.

"What are you going to do then?" “Why are you so willing to die?” dean asked as frankly as he could. To him it almost made less sense than him not killing Castiel, so much was on the line for both of them yet it appears they both chose the one that would benefit them least. “if I chose to fight back, I’ll just be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life, my dad screwing someone over and them not being able to find him but easily able to find me, it’s like an ongoing match of chess, winner gets my life. I'm done, this was supposed to be the last time. You're not the first you know, they were selfish bastards that didn't care if I got caught in the crossfire, because I was

 Dean wondered if he should just leave and let Castiel go on with whatever quality of life he had left, the thoughts that next time this happened, they probably wouldn’t have the same moral problem dean had, loomed over him. But again, he reminded himself this was Castiel’s bullshit to deal with, not his.

But what if Castiel’s bullshit became his bullshit, he had an idea but it would have to work from both ends and right now he wasn’t so sure if Castiel was up to it.

 “I think I have an idea Castiel, but you’re going to have to work with me. We can’t stab each other in the back.” Dean said with a new tone of voice. Not a confused or a guilty tone but a tone of a man that may have just found the cure to a life handed to you against your want. “What is it?” he inquired, curious from the new tone of voice. “Well we could fake your death, and find your father then kill him, you know it seems like you have a skill set needed for, a faking-death-kinda-thing," Dean said almost in a cheeky way but he hoped there was a mutual understanding that he was being serious. Castiel nodded his head slowly, Dean hoped he was considering this because he really didn't have any other options for Castiel

“What is it?” he inquired, curious from the new tone of voice. “Well we could fake your death, and find your father then kill him, you know it seems like you have a skill set needed for, a faking-death-kinda-thing," Dean said almost in a cheeky way but he hoped there was a mutual understanding that he was being serious. Castiel nodded his head slowly, Dean hoped he was considering this because he really didn't have any other options for Castiel

“Well we could fake your death, and find your father then kill him, you know it seems like you have a skill set needed for, a faking-death-kinda-thing," Dean said almost in a cheeky way but he hoped there was a mutual understanding that he was being serious. Castiel nodded his head slowly, Dean hoped he was considering this because he really didn't have any other options for Castiel besides that and fake kidnapping. “I did that

“I did that once, when I was nineteen, my dad said if I ever did that again and he found me alive he would kill me himself, I’ve always needed him so I haven’t tried it since. I suppose if he finds me alive this time, it will be the opposite, but I must tell you, killing, it’s not for me. You would have to be the one doing it” “Alright, shouldn’t be a problem, it’s my forte.” 

“To find my father we'll have to take a trip to my college Charlies, it about a three day's drive, once we get there she should be able to locate him, I would call her over the phone but I'm not sure what her number is, she changes them once a month and the number I have is tapped from her end from my father," Castiel said with confidence, Dean could see hope in his eye that this plan would work.

"and you're sure she's able to find him, and we can trust her?" dean hoped not to offend him with the question but his face was plunged with a sudden seriousness that wasn't there seconds before.

“I would and am going to trust her with your and my life, if you help me with this, mine isn’t going to be the only one threatened, yours will too, but seeing as though you’re willing to help me it seems you may not have any other choice.” he understood and was right, both of their lives would change after that night, Castiel would get to keep his and dean would soon get to see his past disappear.

“Got it, both of our lives are on the line here, willing and ready, we should get started on plotting your murder, yeah?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo, I know I haven't posted in quite a while, I'm sorry, but I haven't had a computer. Now I do! I will continue to update regularly and they will be long updates, I can't guarantee they'll be good. this is the first story I'm actually putting a lot of effort into. Thank You for reading this!!!

**Author's Note:**

> So hello, I would like say thanks for reading this story, I don't have very much motivation on my own so if you liked it or even think it will could be okay, leave me comments they encourage me to write more often and better every comment will count trust me, I am like a dog though if you have criticizem you have to wrap it in complements like you would stuff a pill into dog treats.


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